


Tears in the Fade

by JorJortheDinosaur



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-08 21:03:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12262059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JorJortheDinosaur/pseuds/JorJortheDinosaur
Summary: This is the story of Inquisitor Amara, who is not a natural born leader but inspires hope in her inquisition through hard work, dedication, and just a hint of romance.





	1. Chapter 1

Amara still could not comprehend what was happening. She had woken on a cold stone floor. A woman, tall, dark, and imposing had stabbed her through with accusations and questions. Cassandra was in pain then, she had since learned, but at the time she feared and hated the Seeker. Leliana had placated Cassandra, but something about the spy master gave Amara chills when she thought too hard about her. Before she could accept that everyone at the Conclave was dead, she was being marched through the mountains with her hand green and glowing. The pressure had built into unimaginable pain until finally the apostate Solas grabbed her and showed her its true power. She closed a tear in the sky and stopped the demons. Wouldn't her siblings die if they heard Amara could sew up the sky? It all was simply too much to be believed. 

Back at Haven, Amara laid in her bed. Several days had passed. The leaders of this newly founded Inquisition were beginning to trust her. She thought of her family. Her parents entrenched in politics, bent on primping her for a beneficial marriage. Her brothers sneaking out at night to teach her all they had learned that day. Her sisters snickering at her sloppy needle work as she fell asleep in her chair. She missed them all, but here she was free to wield a sword. Here, her voice was heard. 

"Lady Amara, ser," a small voice trembled from the doorway. "S-Seeker Cassandra requests you. In the war room, ser." The small elven child disappeared before she could thank her. 

Amara struggled not to shy away from the masses that always gathered outside her door. She held her chin high and dug her fingernails into her palms for a distraction. This time, however, she was rescued by the gruff Knight Commander. He waited as patiently as one always in motion could. "Ah, good! You're awake." Cullen's voice was strong, as big as he was. Amara was tall for even many men she knew and she still had to look up at the Commander. She smiled at him, not yet having the courage to talk. "The damned apostates and templars are at the outskirts of our camp in the Hinterlands. We were hoping the Herald of Andraste, backed by heavily armed forces of course, would help calm skirmishes."

They were walking briskly toward the chantry, not quite fast enough for her to miss the murmurs. "Herald of Andraste. I'll never be used to hearing that." To her surprise, he chuckled with her. "I'll do my best but..." He looked at her, deep brown eyes unreadable. "I'm handy with a sword, but no more than your templar soldiers. I guess I could glow at them, if you really want." She held her hand toward him and wriggled her fingers. 

He flinched uncharacteristically. "Makers breath, that is unnerving." 

She sighed and lowered her hand. "You should try sleeping with it." Her face burnt as she saw his ears go red. "N-not that... what I mean is..." The Maker smiled on her as at that very moment they reached the chantry doors and Roderick barreled out. 

"Some Knight Commander you are, fraternizing with this murderer!"

Amara swore Cullen looked relieved as he turned his focus toward Roderick. He waved her through the door. "As you may recall, I am not the Knight Commander. I quit. I suppose you are now going to blame all of the Templar crimes on me, as well? And while we are here, what proof do you have that Amara was not delivered by Andraste? Were you at the Conclave? Were you there to protect the Divine?" The doors slammed shut, cutting off Roderick's sputtering retort. 

She entered the war room. Leliana, Ambassador Josephine, and Cassandra were waiting. "Where is Cullen?" sighed Josephine. "I swear, he had best not be anatagonizing Roderick. Every time I begin to soothe our relations with him-and through him the Chantry- that bull headed Commander upsets him again. It is as though public relations mean nothing to that man." She put a hand to her forehead. "It's fine. I'm fine. I'll just pull a few favors, maybe contact the Duke of..."

"Josephine," Cassandra said, commanding yet gentle, "innocents are dying at the hands of powerful mages and templars. Let us focus on the problem at hand."

"Ah, yes. You're right. Please, explain the current situation to the Herald. I'll just.. be over here...planning."

~~~~~

Amara returned to camp at dusk, bloodied and sore. Cassandra left to update the war room of their victories and of the plan to build watch towers. They had found several prime places that would protect both their camps and the people. Amara was having a difficult time dealing with the things she had seen at the crossroads. Innocent people dying of injuries, starving, freezing... She was planning ways to help them when Varric spoke up. 

"I need a stiff drink and a good story. Care to join me, Herald?" His voice was always friendly, inviting, and just a bit sarcastic when he addressed her by title. It was a relief and she found herself quickly growing fond of the dwarf. 

"Ale heals all wounds, as they say. Just to be safe, let's have a few." Their laughter carried over into the tavern. A few patrons gave her wide berth. It was no longer anger or hatred, but a sort of awed fear that kept the others away from her. She could not blame them. She always returned covered in blood but victorious, no matter what the Hinterlands threw at them. She could slay hoards of demons and patched holes in the sky. She was afraid of herself. 

"Did I ever tell you about the time that I was banned from every tavern in Orlais?" Amara smiled at Varric and was sucked into his story with amused rapture. The dwarf had travelled. He had seen, and done, it all. She knew he was a gifted story teller, but she chose to believe him. It gave him a mystique that was fun to be around. 

His story lasted well through to their second ale. Amara found herself a bit tipsy as she threw her head back and laughed loudly. "One poorly placed flaming arrow and they kicked you out of every tavern in Orlais? It's not considered a good night of drinking in the Free Marches otherwise!"

Varric laughed deeply. "Well, it may have had more to do with the explosion and total destruction of the Gilded Queen, but I know, right? Some people just can't handle any fun. Take my brother Bartrand for..." His face crumpled with a far away sadness. 

"I didn't know you had a brother."

He shrugged. "Yeah well, he's a fool. Andraste's plump ass, he tried to kill Hawke and I in the deep roads! I shouldn't even care."

"But you do," she said softly. She was definitely growing fond of the archer. 

He sighed. "I suppose I do. Hawke helped me save his life. He stole this idol from the deep roads and it was made from red lyrium. Drove him insane until he sold it to Knight Commander Meredith and, well, you know how well that went. Instead of killing him, she put him up in her manor in Kirkwall and I am handing over all of my book money to a team of healers that watch over him. Blasted fool."

"Him or you?" she asked jokingly. 

He laughed, a short bark that eased the bitterness in his chest. "Both." He motioned to the bartender for another ale. "You remind me of Hawke. She was thrown into responsibility and made it up as she went. Plus she was a great drinking buddy."

Amara smiled, spirits lifted. To be compared to the hero of Kirkwall! "You seem very fond of her. Did you ever..."

"Me and Hawke? Heavens, no! Besides, Biance would get jealous." He lovingly patted the crossbow that never left his side. "Human women are great to look at, don't get me wrong. But you all are just so... gangly. I like a woman with meat on her bones. A good, sturdy dwarven woman," he sighed happily, "with strong arms, dark hair, top notch blacksmithing skills...."

"So Bianca IS a real woman!"

Varric sputtered ale across the table. "What?! No! Perish the thought. You know what, you need more ale. Drink up, Herald!" He shouted the last part loudly enough that every patron in the bar stood and cheered their hero. Varric had won this time, but she would find out who this mystery Bianca was someday. 

When they had downed the last of their ale, Varric volunteered to escort her back to the chantry. They were laughing and stumbling down the path when the Seeker and Commander found them. 

Cassandra looked at both of them with a cocked eyebrow. "Varric? Please tell me you were not trying anything... untoward."

Varric sputtered. "Me and the Herald? Seeker, this woman could probably kill me with one touch!"

"Plus he likes his crossbow too much," Amara giggled helpfully. Cullen gave her an unreadable look. Varric elbowed her side but could only reach her hip, causing more laughter to spill out from them both. 

"Hmmm." Cassandra frowned. "Cullen, escort Varric to his tent. I'll walk with the Herald." Cullen nodded curtly and left with the dwarf. Amara swallowed, sober enough to still fear Cassandra's ire. She had not warmed up to Amara and was a formidable woman. They walked in silence for a few minutes. "Perhaps I made a mistake," Cassandra finally murmured. 

"A mistake?" Amara could not imagine the Seeker ever being in the wrong. 

"Yes, a mistake. Perhaps many. Breaking away from everything I've always known, questioning the faith, raising you and sending you out as the face of the Inquisition! What was I thinking?"

That sobered Amara quickly. She put her hand on Cassandra's arm and was surprised that she did not pull away. "You were thinking that the current chantry was not serving the maker or his people as well as they should. You have been called to a higher purpose. And..." Amara took a steadying breath, forcing herself to continue. "And I know that I look a mess right now. Sometimes what we find out there is harrowing. But your faith in me, the faith of the entire inquisition, has given me the courage to continue trying, to better myself and the world around me." Cassandra looked surprised. "You're an excellent leader. You will make this Inquisition succeed where others have failed."

"I... thank you." Her voice was soft and Amara felt her heart squeeze. Cassandra was just a woman, like anyone else. Of course she would have doubts. Of course she would need the support of those close to her. "That was surprisingly eloquent for someone in your state." The corner of her mouth creeped upwards and Amara realized she was joking. 

She cracked a smile. "You should join us next time. Varric is an excellent drinking partner!"

This time Cassandra did not fight her smile. "Perhaps I will."


	2. 2.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Herald gets proper training and the Inquisition find trouble in Redcliffe

2\.   
The sun had not yet crested the mountains when Cullen found Amara on the practice field. She had found sleep difficult that night. Her conversation with Cassandra had filled her with guilt, a worm wiggling through her innards. So many believed in her, and their safety relied on her. She WOULD do better. Her blade smacked the training dummy with sharp staccatos, articulating her turbulent thoughts. 

"Your technique is a bit sloppy." She yelped and dropped her sword. Turning, she found Cullen examining her. "Also, you should stay armed when caught off guard. It tends to end better for you." If she didn't know better, she would swear he was amused. 

"Ah, yes, well..." She furiously swiped at stray strands of hair, shoving them behind her ears in embarrassment. Grabbing the sword, she pointed it at the Commander. "Is this better?"

He shook his head and sighed through a smirk. "No." He moved toward her and disarmed her in the blink of an eye. He held her sword out of arms reach tauntingly. 

She could not believe the sullen commander was teasing her. She picked at the hem of her tunic. "You could teach me," she suggested. She was hesitant to ask him. She was embarrassed to be so easily bested and made seem foolish. she had only ever been taught by her brothers. Her terrible performance reflected poorly on them. 

Cullen seemed taken aback by the request. "Hmmm. You do tend to find trouble." After a moment's pause, he flipped the sword and held it out hilt first. She accepted it with an eager smile. 

Training with Cullen was not unlike training with her brothers. He would shout out orders gruffly, but gently help her to her feet when she inevitably ended up on the ground. Many times. It was easy to tell that he had taken to his Templar training with ease and eagerness. He also sincerely seemed to enjoy training others. She had watched him in the practice fields with the recruits. He expected much, but always had a motivational compliment for each individual. 

Too soon, the eery green glow of the fade mixed with bright sunshine and others began to find their way to the field. Amongst a sea of murmurs, an audience formed around the pair. Amara hardly noticed. She was too focused on parrying Cullen's onslaught. His exertive grunts turned to laughter as her parry count grew. "Good, Amara! You've got it!" Her foot slipped at the sound of the Commander using her name and she found herself on her backside once more. This time, however, he did not stop. He came toward her and swung his blade. Instinctively, she blocked the blow and kicked out at his legs. Caught off guard by her improvisation, he fell to the ground. Laying on his back, he looked to the sky and laughed heartily. "Well done!" They helped each other push off the ground and right themselves. He rewarded her the most charming smile she'd ever seen. "Let that be a lesson," he shouted so that everyone could hear, "to never let your guard down." The soldiers laughed at their commanders mistake and the crowd dispersed to go about their daily routine. Cullen and Amara faced each other, breathing heavily. "You need more practice, but the skill is clearly there. Who taught you?"

Her eyes crinkled as she thought of her two older brothers. "Thom and Maron Trevelyn of Ostwick," she said, laying the pretentiousness on thickly. 

"Your brothers? I can't imagine your parents approved of that."

"Because they didn't. My brothers would train by day, and teach by night. It drove my tutors mad when I kept falling asleep over my needlepoint. My sisters are perfect ladies and will make political marriages. I wanted a bit more... adventure." 

He cocked an eyebrow and looked pointedly at the sky. "And is this adventure everything you hoped it would be?"

"Yes, I often imagined demons pouring out of holes in the sky and ravaging a war torn country. This is literally a dream come true." He smirked but his response was cut off by the arrival of Cassandra. 

"That was quite the display," she said, unreadable as always. "It would be interesting to see if you could defeat a Seeker in the same manner." Cullen sneered at her. "Herald, I need to speak with the Commander." It was not a request. 

Amara wandered the grounds of Haven. The crunch of snow mixed with the crackling of the Fade tear. She still marveled at its impact. Everything was tinged green from its light. The strange sounds could be heard throughout the day, even over the din of the practice fields. She had repaired it enough to end the demons escaping, yet it continued to impact even the smallest aspects of their lives. 

Leliana was hunched over a pile of paper scraps in her tent. Crows flew in hourly at least and she collected the heaps eagerly. Amara was privy to nearly everything the three leaders had to say, yet she could not even begin to fathom what those coded notes contained. Leliana's reach was widespread and seemed endless. If a Duke sneezed in Kirkwall, she knew. 

Amara ducked through the flaps and tried to make her presence known. "You don't have to step so loudly," Leliana said, her voice a sultry murmur. "No one will ever be able to take me by surprise." Amara marveled at her accent, the song-like lilt to her voice. She wondered what Leliana's story was, and what had shaped her into such a hardened creature. 

"I'm sorry; I didn't want to..." Amara felt awkward. She never knew what to say to these powerful people who changed the world on a whim. Her parents were political and always knew the right thing to say in any situation. Perhaps she should have paid more attention to that than focusing on swordplay with her brothers. 

A scout burst into the tent and urgently reported on dead spies and a butler. They spoke in half codes and she barely kept up. Then the spy master slammed her hand on the table, disturbing the scraps. "Damn him! I have no choice. Kill him. But make it swift and painless. We were friends once."

That startled Amara out of her confused daze. "Leliana, no! You can't!" The spy master leveled her with a look that nearly dropped her to her knees to beg forgiveness. Instead, she threw her shoulders back and stood strong. "Death is never the answer. That was the way of former regimes and look where we are. Look at the state of the world. Look to the damn sky! We have to be forgiving. We must guide the people with a gentle hand."

"The people will kill you in a heartbeat. Don't think they won't," she purred threateningly. 

"No, they won't. I have a skilled spy master, a Seeker, and a Templar to protect me. These people have nothing and desperation drives them. They are consumed with fear for the way things were. We must show them how things will be from now on." 

The scout looked between the women, frozen in place. Leliana and Amara stared at each other, Amara attempting to be brave and Leliana a blank slate. Finally, Leliana's posture relaxed ever so slightly. "You heard the Herald. Detain him but do not hurt him." The scout bowed and hustled out of the tent. The tension in the air was thick. Amara held her breath, ready to face the full ire of the spymaster. "I was young and naive like you once," she said just above a whisper. Her voice lacked its usual guarded hardness. It was almost longing. "A close friend of mine used to bring me on her travels to help her see the better path. And to sing to the camp at night." She turned to Amara, smiling sadly. "I helped her make hard decisions, usually when the hardest choice was to let someone live. But my time as the Left Hand to the Divine taught me that others rarely deserve that second chance. I hope that we do not regret your decision in time." She turned back to the notes, her tone dismissive. Amara left sure that she had done the right thing by sparing the perpetrator but unsure of her position with Leliana. 

\-------------

With a sharp thwack, Varric's arrow pierced the hide of the demon and it fizzled out of existence. "Ah, beautiful!" He exclaimed, lovingly patting Bianca. Amara smiled at his enthusiasm but Cassandra and Solas did not seem amused. 

They had found this tear in the veil near the crossroads. They had only recently secured the area and refugees and the wounded were flooding in. A tear here would have cost dozens or hundreds of lives if it had gone undiscovered. Leliana's spies are invaluable, Amara thought. 

"Hey Herald, I think you actually almost killed one today." Varric was at her side and gave her a wink. "Guess Fluffy's training is paying off!" She did not think she approved of the twinkle in his eyes. 

Cullen had been greeting her just before dawn every day for several weeks. His enthusiasm was surprising yet infectious and he seemed impressed with her progress. She was improving, just not as quickly as she would have liked. Her body was hardening and a serving had had to let out her tunics and trousers. The armorer must have a sense of humor, however, because her armor was only now starting to truly fit. Still, she was grateful for their care. Not that long ago they had been cutting her down with accusatory looks and words, believing her to have killed the Divine. 

A sound like thunder rolled over the hills. Everyone grew silent, only the moans of the most wounded cutting through. "War drums?" Cassandra's eyebrows knitted together. She and Solas looked at each other, both clearly concerned. "Herald, we must investigate."

"And soon," Solas agreed. "They are coming from the north. We must hurry."

Their party had not yet cleared the King's road for safe passage, but they made short work of it with a handful of soldiers and scouts. As they neared Redcliffe, the drums grew louder. As they approached the city gate, the drums stopped. The gates creaked open in the ominous silence. Citizens looked to them with a mixture hope and anger. Mages quickly turned and fled. 

"What is going on here," Amara asked her party in hushed tones. 

"Let us find out." Cassandra gruffly grabbed a fistful of robes worn by a young Mage who did not flee quickly enough. "What is going on here," she demanded loudly. Her voice bounced off the houses and filled the village. "Tell me!" She shook the petrified man child. 

"T-t-tevinter...they h-h-have arrived, s-s-ser."

Cassandra dropped him in her shock. Solas appeared angry, the first real emotion Amara had seen from him. Varric mumbled under his breath. She only caught snippets mentioning unmentionable parts of Andraste. Amara's heart beat quickly and she felt cold. Tevinter most certainly did not belong in Ferelden. Their timing could not be coincidence. The mage fled as soon as he realized their attention was not on him. "We should speak to the arl," Amara suggested, needing to do something other than think of all the terrible outcomes of this news. 

"I agree. He needs to answer me as to why he would allow this to happen," Cassandra growled through gritted teeth. 

"Why on earth would the Imperium come here? And now? Did they not notice the giant green hole in the sky," Varric asked no one in particular. 

Near the center of town, a small gathering of mages spoke in urgent, hushed tones. "Grand Enchanter Fiona," Cassandra called out. An older woman looked disgruntled by the recognition. She began to back out of the circle. "Grand Enchanter, might we have a word?" Cassandra expertly weaved between the mages and grabbed the woman's arm, stopping her. The woman's face dropped. 

"Seeker, it is a surprise to see you here. And now." Her voice was flat, surprising considering her thick Orlesian accent. 

"I have heard a preposterous rumor that the Tevinter have arrived in Redcliffe. I know that cannot be true."

"I am sure that the Seeker is aware that I have been leading a mage rebellion. I hardly have the time to follow politics."

"Yeah, because your little rebellion is known for not being politically charged," Varric muttered not too quietly. 

Fiona looked as though she were about to argue but then caved in on herself. "You and your Inquisition must know that I only did what-"

"Well, well! The Inquisition! What a surprise." A tevinter magister strode into the square flanked by a batillion of battle mages. "And led by the Herald herself. I had no idea."

Amara pointedly looked at the armored mages. "I somehow find that hard to believe."

He smirked at her, a man clearly under the impression that he was completely in charge. “A mere precaution. One does hear tales of how noble ladies can behave most unpredictably.” His gaze made Amara’s skin crawl. “I am Magister Gereon Alexius, leader of the mages you see before you. All of the mages.” He sneered at Fiona when a small choking sound escaped her lips. 

“Leader of the mages,” Cassandra spat incredulously. “This is an invasion!”

Alexius’s face crumpled into nasty disapproval. “This is not an invasion! This is for their own good! Ferelden has abandoned its mages, enslaved them and abused their gifts! I will show them their true powers! I will lead them to greatness!” Spittle has formed in the corners of his mouth as he screamed maniacally at them. Then he seemed to catch himself and returned to his manicured self. “I do not have time for this. I am a busy man.” He turned to Amara. “Herald, let us arrange a meeting. I will send a letter detailing the event. Good day, Inquisition.” He and his battle mages marched off toward the arl’s castle. 

“Arl Eamon is not here,” Fiona seemed to explain before quietly following after them. 

“Tevinter has invaded,” said Cassandra, still sounding as though she was questioning everything they had witnessed. “It is truly the end of times.”

“Yeah, this really sucks,” added Varric helpfully. 

A young man, pale and appearing unwell, stumbled toward them. He tripped and fell hard into Amara. “Excuse me! I am not well.” The rest appeared concerned as Tevinter mages appeared seemingly out of nowhere and grasped the man. “Master Felix, lets get you to your father,” one of them said and they carried him away. He looked back at Amara, looking much less ill and much more determined. 

Amara waited until they were far from the gates of Redcliffe before opening her hand and showing the note to the rest of the party. “It seems we have been invited to a secret meeting.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amara takes the bait and trusts a strange handsome man.

“I still think that this is foolish. It is obviously a trap.” Cassandra’s voice echoed through the dark and empty Chantry. 

“Really, Seeker? Because you’ve only been saying that every few minutes since this afternoon and I wasn’t quite sure that you meant it.” Varric seemed a little on edge as well, which Amara did not feel was a good sign. 

“There is a giant hole in the sky, demons, and now a Tevinter invasion,” Amara snapped, trying to get her party to focus. “If a strange sick man stumbles out of nowhere with possible information, we have to follow the lead, right?”

“But what if a strange handsome man appears? What do you do then?” They all turned toward a mage stepping out of the shadows. They drew their weapons and he held up His hands. “I said strange handsome man, not strange stupid man. I am not here to fight.” 

The rest kept their fighting stances, but Amara sheathed her sword. She found herself already liking the stranger. “Alright, strange handsome man. Who are you?”

He smiled brightly and shifted into an easy going pose. “Ah, the lady sees sense! I am Dorian of House Parvos, at your service.”

“He is Tevinter. Do not trust him, Herald.”

Dorian pouted. “It is sad to see that not all beautiful women are won over by my charms.” Cassandra blushed and somehow looked angrier. “Yes, I am Tevinter. But I am not part of the invasion. Alexius was my mentor. Now he is... not himself. I am here to help stop him.” 

“Who was the young man with the note? Is he alright?”

Dorian’s eyes shone. “Felix. He is Alexius’s son.” He ignored the gasps of outrage. “He also should be here... At any rate, he’s on our side, so wipe those looks off your faces or they may stick that way.”

“Dorian, maybe don’t insult our one chance at saving the world.” Felix joined the group, still looking pale and sweating slightly. 

“Fine, fine.” Dorian waved him away exasperatedly. “Talk to them about your father. I’m bored.” He began to pick at his nails. Amara couldn’t help but feel a bit of respect for someone who could so easily and dramatically pretend to ignore immediate danger. 

“How do we know you aren’t spying for your father?” Demanded Cassandra, clearly longing to be in control of the situation once more. 

“I love my father, but this is madness.” Felix lowered himself unsteadily onto a pew. Amara noticed Dorian intently watching him though he pretended to be preoccupied still with his grooming. “I cannot stand by idly and watch him corrupt magic like this.” Cassandra nodded once, conceding that she believed him. At last, she sheathed her sword and relaxed. “He altered time to arrive at Redcliffe before you, Herald.”

“He did WHAT?” Cassandra exclaimed, losing her composure. 

“Well, fuck.” Varric shifted uncomfortably on his feet. 

“Ah, so he did figure out that bit,” sighed Dorian. 

Amara did her best to stay calm. “Why would he do that? What could possibly be so important?”

“You, it would seem. Or stopping you, rather. He had heard that your Inquisition was considering allying with the mages. He was under orders to prevent that.” He held up a hand, stopping their immediate outburst. “No, I do not know who gave the orders. He appears to be part of a cult. All I know is that we had to beat you here by any means necessary and ally with the mages. Except I think ‘enslave’ may be a better term. My father does not seem to respect the Orlesian and Ferelden mages as he would a Tevinter mage.”

“And here I came without anything for him,” huffed Amara, relying on humor as a defense against the overwhelming insanity of it all. Dorian chuckled. At least someone liked her. 

“Father has sent an invitation to Haven. It is a trap, Herald. I advise you to come but be prepared. Please contact Dorian if there is anything we can do to assist you from here. I love my father but... this isn’t him. Someone or something is controlling him.”

“You can send the Nightingale’s messenger to the tavern to reach me,” Dorian offered. “This May surprise you, but Alexius tends to not frequent that sort of place.” 

~~~

Amara burst through the tear in time, Dorian right behind her. She had hoped to march out gracefully and make a grand entrance, but the things she had seen... the terribleness robbed her of dignity. Instead, the moment she gained her footing, she marched right over to Alexius. “WHAT THE FUCK?!” she screamed as she punched his face with as much strength as she could muster. A sickening crunch echoed through the hall, which was stunned into silence, and she could not tell if it was her hand or his face. He starred in horror as he lay on the ground at her feet, blood erupting from his nose. “Do you know what you have done? Or will do? Fuck, I cannot even-“ she was shrieking wildly and every person in the room was staring at her in surprise and horror. 

“What the Herald means to say, from what little isn’t just piercing my ears,” Dorian helpfully translated,” is that you very nearly made a terrible mistake, Alexius. But you have failed.”

Alexius trembled on the ground, tears mixing with blood. “He would have saved my son!” His voice was filled with anguish. “Now nothing will save my darling Felix.”

“We all die, Father. I am not worth all this.”

The door slammed open and the royal guard stormed in. King Alistair fiercely marched in in all his glory. “What is the meaning of this? The leader of the mage rebellion, the infamous Inquisition, and a Tevinter invasion? I never get invited to the good parties anymore.”

“Your majesty, we can explain,” began Cassandra. She gave a brief summary as the king listened intently. Dorian filled in the blanks with as little information as he could give about the tear and the future. Fiona stared at the king, a mixture of fear and longing. 

“I am at a complete loss,” sighed Alistair. “Where does one even begin with all of this chaos? I have a hole in the sky, a rebellion that spreads across my entire domain, a Tevinter invasion, and the only people actually helping are a revival of the dreaded inquisition of past!” He pinched the misshapen bridge of his nose, his face a map of his former battles, of his time spent as a Grey Warden. “Enchanter Fiona, you are hereby placed under royal arrest for leading a mage rebellion and the deaths of countless Templar soldiers and innocents.”

Amara, who has been breathing deeply and attempting to calm down, stepped forward. “Your majesty, you know that the inquisition fights to restore peace to all of Thedas. We require many allies and soldiers to help in our endeavor.”

“You cannot be serious,” Cassandra muttered. 

“I, too, care for the well-being of my people. I will support you, Lady Herald, but choose your allies carefully.”

Fiona looked at her with helplessness. “Are we to be slaves? Was this all for nought?”

“The mages are now soldiers and allies of the Inquisition. They are to be protected by our banner and treated with the respect that demands.” 

Fiona’s knees seemed to fail her and she crumpled to the ground. “Thank you, thank you, Herald. This is more than I could have hoped for after such a grievous error.”

“It was grievous,” Alistair said, voice commanding. “Be mindful that I now hold the inquisition totally responsible for the mages in this land. Behave as that this kindness deserves. I would not have been so forgiving.” He signaled for his guards to arrest and remove Alexius. Felix and Dorian followed, Felix speaking calmly to his father. Alistair stepped to Cassandra. “Seeker Pentaghast. You are as intimidating as the stories make you out to be. However, I must say I’m disappointed.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I expected armor of dragon scales, a skull helmet. Instead your armor is rather... normal.” 

Varric laughed. “I like this king!” 

“Seeker, I was curious...” The king shifted his weight uncomfortably. “How is Leliana? 

She smiled gently. “Formidable. Knowledgeable. She has changed much in the years since you knew her.”

He nodded. “I worry about her. She had been so innocently naive back then.” His eyes glazed briefly, seeing a time long past. “Does she still sing?”

“Sweetly, as long as she believes no one is listening.” He smiled, the corners of his mouth pushing against the sadness. They saluted each other, ever the dutiful soldiers. 

Amara gasped sharply as the king approached her. “Your majesty,” she greeted him, bowing deeply. 

He snorted. “Firstly, that is never not going to sound weird. Secondly, the Herald of Andraste, mouthpiece to the heavens, is bowing to me? My, I’m not sure my head will fit through the doorway after this.”

Amara nervously made eye contact. “It’s a pretty big door.” 

The king threw his head back and laughed, a deep rumbling that warmed her to her core. “I like you, Herald. You remind me of my wife. She, too, is quick with a witty bite to keep me modest. It is good to know that someone like you is high in the inquisition. Maybe it won’t be all doom and gloom after all.” He glanced at Fiona, who still watched him with large eyes. “Mind your allies, Herald. I meant what I said. I may not be the most politically savvy, but I’ve learned a thing or two about trust. And about alienating other potential allies. Your declaration of mage freedom and blatant support of their cause is going to make a lot of behind the scenes work for your ambassador.” He opened and closed his mouth a few times before shaking his head. “Honestly? I probably would have done the same thing. Templars are trained soldiers. The mages are children, not used to warfare. They need to know what it is like to be trusted and to be trained for war.” Alistair grasped Amara’s arm. “Do right by them, Herald. For all our sakes.”

She bowed shallowly, needing a moment to process. “I’ll do my best.”

“Now,” he said loudly, voice silencing those around him, “someone tell me what delights the future holds.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a bit of what I feel goes on behind the scenes. I don't want to focus on the game content, but rather how it impacts the characters and their lives outside of that.


End file.
